


Morale Booster

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending, Community: wizard_love, F/M, Secret Valentine, Valentine's Day, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-17
Updated: 2006-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione sometimes finds it hard to remember that everyone changes. Lavender doesn't have that problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morale Booster

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the 2006 wizard_love fest for a request that included secret valentines, meddling friends, and happy endings. Pre- _Deathly Hallows_ , so tagged Alternate Ending.

A light dusting of pink glitter drifted across the parchment pressed against the desk, and got stuck in the wet ink. Hermione Granger took a deep breath and looked up to find Lavender Brown grinning back at her. "Lavender," Hermione said with hard-found patience, "I am _working_."

"You can keep working," said Lavender as she tucked a folded parchment under the edge of Hermione's desk blotter. "Just a little office spirit for Valentine's Day!"

Hermione pushed back her chair and sighed. "Lavender, this is where we _work_. It's not the Gryffindor dorm, it's not the social pages of the Daily Prophet, it's just another boring Ministry office where I calculate tax rates and you...." She frowned a bit. "Lavender, what exactly do you do?"

Lavender giggled. "Silly, you know I'm Percy's secretary! And I'm also in charge of Ministry Morale! He said it's a very important part of my job and I should spend part of every day going around to see whether people are happy!"

Hermione shook her head. Percy could be quite Slytherin when he tried, and she had to give him credit - this was a fabulous way to get Lavender out of his office for half the day while she went around and gossiped under cover of improving everyone's attitude. Hermione plucked the folded parchment from her blotter and held it up. "Is this a morale project?"

"Yes," Lavender said happily. "It's a Secret Valentine - you get someone's name, someone else gets yours, and you send little notes or gifts for the next two weeks until Valentine's Day."

Hermione sighed and let the parchment drop without opening it.

"Hermione," Lavender said, a somewhat serious expression crossing her face, "I worked hard on the pairings. I didn't match you up with Ron or any of his mates, all right? It isn't a matchmaker thing." Her brow wrinkled. "Well, for some people it is. But you and Ron had that bad break-up and I think you should just have some fun rather than moping around on Valentine's Day."

"Thank you," Hermione said, surprised by Lavender's reaction. "I was planning to spend it with romance novels and treacle tart."

"You still can! Just, at work you've got to send a few notes and maybe some candy." Lavender leaned in conspiratorially. "It's also an attempt to boost the candymaker businesses. Percy said there had to be an economic angle to the project." Lavender did a frighteningly-good imitation of Percy saying this, and both she and Hermione dissolved in laughter.

"All right," Hermione said after she stopped giggling. She picked up the parchment again. "I'll do it." She opened the flap and saw Percy's name. "Well, that's one way to keep it completely professional."

Lavender looked nervous. "He's married, Hermione. I know you'll keep it proper, and he's Ron's brother, and I could have given you Harry but -"

"It's all right, Lavender." Hermione smiled. "It's actually easier this way. Thank you."

Lavender slipped behind Hermione's desk and gave her a quick hug, then bounced away, followed by a trail of glitter. Hermione tucked the parchment away again and returned to her calculations.

::

  


_Granger:_

_Have some candy. You're looking thin. Still getting over Weasley?_

_Your Secret Valentine_

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened the packet, then frowned a bit. These weren't the sort of candies that the tea-trolley carried, nor the kiosk in the lobby. Her Valentine had clearly gone outside to buy something for her. She bit into one of the truffles, gently cinnamon-scented, and smiled to herself.

"Oi, Granger. Meeting." Gregory Goyle poked his head into her office. "Sneaking chocs midday?"

"Secret Valentine," Hermione said, swallowing quickly and coming around her desk. "Snarky note but lovely chocs."

Goyle chuckled. "Mine sent me a squished bun from the trolley."

"That's not good for morale," Hermione said.

"Better than one half-eaten," Goyle said cheerfully as they entered the weekly status meeting.

::

  


_Granger:_

_Heard you complaining about office supplies in the lunch line. Have some of those Magi-Clips you like so much._

_Your Secret Valentine_

Hermione pounced on the cello-bag of clips and immediately attached them to all her priority documents, where they slid into place near spelling and mathematical errors. She shoved aside a brief pang of guilt - her Secret Valentine notes to Percy had all been correct and formal, with small boxes of Bertie Bott's attached. Luckily, Percy loved Every-Flavour Beans; he liked to sort them into piles and predict the taste, though nobody was sure whether he actually ate any. Hermione was oddly touched that her secret valentine had paid an equal amount of attention to discover her hidden passion for magical office supplies.

::

  


_Hermione:_

_You're growing out your hair? It keeps falling in your face. Pretty, but must be annoying. (Like Lockhart.)_

_Yr. Valentine_

"Oooh, Hermione, what is it?" Lavender leaned over the back of Hermione's chair and poked at the wrapped gift.

Hermione opened the bag to find a delicate hairclip with a small dragonfly attached, charmed to wave its wings gently. She pulled the ordinary elastic from her hair and slid the hairclip into place, astonished to find that it was charmed to catch all the loose bits and hold them securely. She twisted to look up at Lavender. "Who's my Valentine, Lavender?"

Lavender smiled brightly. "I can't tell you, but I didn't think it would turn out like this. Your Valentine's really paying attention!" She leaned down to whisper. "It's not anyone married or really old, though. Not like Percy."

"That's something to be thankful for," Hermione said, turning back to the note as Lavender dashed away to watch other people open notes and gifts.

::

  


_Hermione:_

_Noticed you wearing the clip. Looks nice on you. It's only a few days til Valentine's Day so I'd best ask while it's still anonymous. Will you have dinner with me that night? You can tell Brown. If not, no harm, and I'll ask her not to tell you who I am._

_Valentine_

Hermione immediately headed for Percy's office, brushing past Gregory Goyle in the hall.

"In a hurry?" He grinned at her. "You look determined."

"Have you seen Lavender?"

"She's there. Arguing with Weasley about which direction to file things. Who knew there was a choice?" He fell into step with her.

"These things are important to him," Hermione said. "Everything has to be exactly as it's supposed to be."

"Always thought of you like that," Goyle said, shrugging a bit. "Lined up and perfect right angles and whatnot. But you're not, are you. I mean, you dumped Ron, and he was the obvious choice for you."

Hermione stopped and turned to Goyle, looking up at him in surprise. "What on earth do you mean?"

His smile was a bit crooked, but warm. "I think the War knocked a lot out of all of us, Granger. For me, it was the idea that I couldn't do anything without being told what it was. For you, maybe it was that you have to do what's expected of you all the time." He shrugged. "Sort of the same thing, really." He went off down the hall, whistling.

Hermione watched him go, then whirled and marched into Lavender's office. "I wasn't going to, but now I am." Lavender giggled and bounced in her chair just a bit.

Percy stared at her. "What are you on about, Hermione?"

"Lavender knows." Hermione gave Percy a brilliant smile. "It's a morale booster."

::

  


_DiPaolo's behind Knockturn. 7 o'clock._

The small card was attached to a bouquet of white tulips and vividly blue iris. The delivery elf hung around clearing its throat until Hermione dug into her purse and handed over a Galleon.

"So pretty!" Lavender stuck her head in the door. "Are you really going?"

"Yes," Hermione said firmly, then bit her lip. "Is it a bad idea?"

"No. Your Valentine's not - well, he's not someone you'd have looked at in school, but he's turned out well. Don't worry, Hermione." Lavender smiled encouragingly. "It's only dinner. You'll be fine."

::

  
At five minutes to seven, Hermione hurried down Knockturn and turned onto the short street that held several restaurants. She'd changed her clothes several times, uncharacteristically nervous, but finally settled on a green sweater and a black jersey skirt with her favorite boots so she'd not have to wear tights. She slowed as she reached the bright red awning over DiPaolo's entrance, unwrapping her long scarf as she walked. In her distraction, she walked directly into Goyle, who'd approached from the other direction. "Oh! Sorry, Goyle. I wasn't paying attention."

"Not a problem. And it's Greg, you know. Since we're colleagues and all." Goyle smiled almost shyly, helping her unwind the last length from her neck.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione returned his smile, wondering if Goyle also had a date. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone. Big Valentine's plans?"

"I'm not. Not since the War." He smiled a bit wryly. "My plans didn't go much beyond this particular moment."

Hermione stared at him as she tried to puzzle his meaning, then felt her mouth drop open just a bit. "You're my Valentine?"

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You can tell me to push off if you want. I know I'm not exactly the sort of prize a smart Gryffindor girl expects."

"Oh, hush." She smiled at him. "It's just dinner, right?"

"Right." Goyle opened the door and gestured her through. "Just dinner."

::

  
More than two hours later, they left the restaurant. Hermione was startled to realize that they'd been there so long - the conversation had ranged from Ministry gossip to Hogwarts memories, with detours to books and political scandals and other peoples' children. When Greg imitated Draco holding his first child as if it were an angry Bludger, Hermione nearly snorted wine through her nose.

They stood on the pavement in front of the restaurant as she wrapped her scarf around her neck. When it tangled in her hair, Greg moved closer and helped her wind it in place.

"Do you live near, or may I see you to the Floo?" He smiled a bit shyly, though the general effect was blunted by the trace of whipped cream still on his cheek from their dessert.

She reached up to wipe it away. "I'm just on Diagon Alley, actually. I used to live in a flat on top of Wizarding Wheezes, but - well, that turned into an uncomfortable situation, so I moved down a few buildings. You?"

"Only a couple of streets over. It's my uncle's place but he's been overseas since before the War." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I could walk you home, or just say good night here."

Hermione tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and smiled. "I'd like the company."

They made their way back toward Knockturn and then up to Diagon, looking in shop windows and falling back into the easy conversation they'd shared over dinner. Hermione was surprised at how personable Greg actually was, though whether he'd developed the skill since the War or whether he'd merely been stifled by Draco in their Hogwarts years wasn't quite clear. Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. She hated it when people expected her to be the same girl she'd been nearly a decade before, so holding Greg Goyle to that standard was quite unfair.

Between her inner musings and their window-shopping, it seemed like the walk home was much shorter than usual. At her doorstep, she fumbled for her wand and opened the general wards, then turned to her companion. Greg smiled and reached to brush her hair back into the dragonfly clip, which moved to capture the stray strands. She returned the smile and, almost without thinking, opened her mouth. "Would you like to come up? I could make coffee, or I think I've got some wine, or...." Her voice trailed away.

His eyes lit. "I'd like that," he said, stepping up into the vestibule behind her.

They climbed the two flights to her floor, where he stood politely aside while she opened her personal wards and turned the doorknob, letting him pass into the flat ahead of her. Not for the first time, Hermione was glad for her regular housecleaning routines. Though she rarely had impromptu visitors, it was good not to be embarrassed by clutter when they did arrive. As Greg helped her remove her coat and scarf and shrugged out of his own, Crookshanks wandered past with a haughty sniff. He came to investigate Greg's trouser cuffs while Hermione pulled off her boots, but appeared to find nothing out of order. He meowed twice and left the room, tail held high, as both Hermione and Greg laughed. "I think you passed," she said. "He'd have caught you with his claws otherwise."

Greg chuckled and followed her into the small kitchenette. "We had Kneazles at home. They've got opinions, that's for certain." He leaned against the wall, watching as Hermione took down a wine bottle and opened it, then reached up for two glasses on the top shelf.

"I can't quite -" she said in frustration.

"Let me," Greg said, pushing away from the wall and leaning over her to grasp the glasses and put them on the counter. As he bent slightly to put them down, Hermione turned just a bit. Though she hadn't meant to, her lips brushed his cheek and they both jumped, startled.

"I -"

"Hermione -"

They stared at each other for a moment, caught in uncertainty, until Greg nodded once. "Right, it's worth a try," he said softly, and leaned in to press his lips against hers. Hermione found her arms twining around his neck, though she was sure she hadn't directed them to do so, and suddenly noticed his arms around her waist. She felt the tentative flick of his tongue across her lips and opened to him, letting her tongue slide against his as she sank into the embrace.

After a few moments, they slowly broke the kiss. Greg leaned his forehead against hers and kissed her cheek. "I've been wanting to do that for a while."

"Oh?" Hermione smiled, kissing the bridge of his nose and nestling a bit closer.

"S'nicer than I thought it would be," he said, hoisting her up to sit on the counter. "Except you're a bit shorter than I'd planned for, or I'm taller or something. Anyway, you're better up here."

"Better for what?" Hermione breathed her words softly against his skin as she trailed soft kisses along his jawline.

"Better for this," he said hoarsely, and leaned in to kiss her again as his hands slid under the edge of her jumper and up across the bare skin beneath.

Hermione wriggled at his touch, arching against the rough skin of his hands as she kissed him with enthusiasm. He caressed her stomach and back for a little while, trading kisses and nips with her as his hands wandered, until he pulled back long enough to tug her jumper off over her head. She undid his shirt buttons, scratching her nails through the crisp curls on his chest while he slid his fingers under the band of her brassiere and muttered mild curses at the hooks. Eventually he succeeded in unfastening and removing the bra, tossing it aside. He slid his hands up to capture her breasts and leaned in to kiss her again.

Someone was making little mewling sounds. Hermione, busy tracing the muscles under Greg's skin, wondered who it might be, until Greg pulled back and chuckled. "Like that, do you?" He ran his finger across her thigh, just along the hem of her skirt, until she shivered and leaned into him again.

"I do," she whispered. "Kiss me again, will you?"

He bent to her, one arm wrapped securely around her waist and the other hand moving up under her skirt hem. She wriggled at his touch, slightly ticklish against the soft skin, and felt his laugh reverberate between their chests pressed tightly together. He flattened his hand and slid his palm more deliberately up her thigh until his fingertips reached the edge of her knickers, and stopped. Hermione lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling her arms from his neck and moving them to his belt buckle.

"Hermione," Greg said uncertainly, "are you sure?"

She undid his buckle and the first few buttons of his trousers, then looked up at him. "Yes," she said softly. "Are you?"

"Yes," he said, kissing her softly. She felt his fingers work under the elastic leg-band of her knickers, teasing the soft curls, and moaned quietly at the sensation. He smiled against her lips and reached for the waistband, tugging her knickers down. She raised one hip, then the other, to let him pull the wisp of fabric free. Her knickers soon followed her bra into parts unknown. Hermione wondered where she'd find them in the morning, but was brought back to the moment by Greg's lips on her neck and his hands on her thighs, pushing her skirt up. She slid closer to the edge of the countertop so that she could lift her other leg to his waist as well.

"If you're going to stop me, Granger, best do it now," he said hoarsely.

"I'm not going to stop you," she whispered. "Touch me again."

"Hermione...."

She reached for his hand, resting on her leg, and moved it herself. "Touch me, Greg," she said softly. "Please."

He groaned as she placed his fingers on top of her labia. When she removed her hand and drew his head down so she could kiss him again, he pushed in just a bit and began to stroke her gently, circling the tiny bundle of nerves and dipping shallowly inside her with each pass. She clung to him, making soft noises again as he grew bolder with his touches.

"Like that?" His voice was soft in her ear as he nuzzled her hairline. "You're so wet, Hermione, so soft and open. I can't believe you're letting me touch you like this."

"Yes," she murmured. "Just like that." She arched against him as he found the right angle and began to rub her clit with more pressure. "Greg - please -" She reached for his other hand and drew it closer as well, placing his fingertips at her opening. "Inside me...."

Greg grinned at her as he slipped one finger into her, then another. As he concentrated on his hands, Hermione tugged and pushed his trousers and pants over his hips. She bit her lip slightly as his cock sprang free from the fabric; he was hard already, the tip glistening with fluid. She reached down and wrapped her hand around him, stroking in time with his movement. Though he groaned at her touch, he kept his pace steady and soon, she was writhing against him as she chased the growing tightness that hovered just out of reach.

"More, please," she whimpered in his ear. He kissed her again, adding a third finger to the others already buried inside her. She pushed against his hand, her grip on his cock faltering as he brought her to the brink. Her head fell back as she concentrated on the pinpoints of sensation between her legs.

"So beautiful, Hermione," Greg muttered. "Just let go...."

His words, combined with the steady attention of his hands, tipped her into a moment of heightened stillness and then over the edge into rhythmic pulses, clenching around his fingers as she whined softly. When the last shocks had died away, Greg slowly pulled his fingers from her and reached down to unwrap her hand from his cock. "A bit tight there at the end," he said.

"Sorry," she said ruefully. "It crept up on me."

"Not a problem," he said lightly, stroking across her cleft one last time and then pulling his hand away. "Was that...."

"That was very good," she said, opening her eyes slowly and smiling at him. "Your turn."

His expression was uncertain. "You don't have to."

"I want to," she said, pulling him closer and wriggling to the very edge of the countertop. "I think you're just tall enough for this."

He laughed and shuffled a bit closer. "Worth a try." As Hermione wrapped her arms around him and kissed him slowly, Greg pressed against her, moving slowly into the soft wet folds. She hooked her ankles together again in the small of his back, drawing him as close as she could. "God, Hermione," he whispered as he began to stroke into her.

Hermione smoothed her hands over his back, dropping tiny kisses over his shoulders and upper chest as he moved into her. She felt a few aftershocks from her own orgasm and gasped, clenching around him. He gasped in return and drove in harder.

"Not going to last long," he said hoarsely.

"It's all right," she whispered, teasing his nipple with her fingernails as he moaned. She bent down and flicked her tongue across the pebbled skin under her fingers. Greg moaned again and eased her back down onto the countertop as best he could, driving harder into her. "Let it come," she whispered, almost chanting to his rhythm, echoing his own words to her, "let it go, don't hold back."

Greg's breath caught raggedly as he slid in and out of her. He pressed sloppy kisses to her breasts and stomach, his thrusts speeding up as he went. Hermione tangled her fingers in his hair and continued whispering to him, his answering groans encouraging her to keep talking. Just as his hips started to jerk out of pace, Hermione leaned up just enough to lick his earlobe and speak softly. "Come for me, Greg. Now."

Greg's breath caught short at her words and he went still atop her, the pulsing of his cock inside her the only motion Hermione could sense. After a moment, he slumped atop her and sighed deeply.

"All right?" She brushed his curly fringe away from his forehead, where it had been pasted down with light sweat.

"Yeah," he said as he struggled to stand again. "Better than, actually. Sorry it was so frantic - I rather had more of a seduction in mind than a quick kitchen shag."

Hermione laughed as she hopped down off the counter and tugged her skirt back into place. "I'd never actually done it like this before, without the planning and whatnot."

Having located his shirt, Greg laughed as he slipped it back on. "Oh, there was planning. It just didn't quite work out. Hadn't intended on you kissing me so soon."

"Me kiss you?" Hermione turned away from the wine bottle she was finally uncorking, mouth open. "You kissed me!"

Greg shrugged. "A little of both, maybe." He accepted the glass she handed to him. "Does this mean you're not throwing me out right away?"

Hermione sipped from her own glass, then picked up her clothes. "Not right away," she said. "It would be a pity to waste all that planning. Is there anything I should know, so I don't mess up the strategy?"

Greg frowned a bit, but when he saw the twinkle in her eyes, he relaxed and laughed. "Go put on a shirt, will you? You're distracting me without one."

"Maybe that's part of _my_ plan," she said with a grin. "Let me go change. You can discuss your plots with Crookshanks." She took a few steps toward the other room, then turned back and came closer to him again. "You could stay for a while," she said quietly. "If you wanted."

Greg bent to kiss the top of her head. "I'd like that," he said. "It fits in with my dastardly plans."

"Merlin, Greg," she laughed. "Dastardly? Lavender will be mortified to hear that you've gone outside the parameters of the Secret Valentine program. I'm fairly sure she didn't intend anything of the sort."

Greg pushed her gently toward the doorway. "Go put on a shirt, Granger. You can let me deal with Lavender if you like."

Hermione grinned and headed for her bedroom, but turned at the door. "She won't care. She's all about results - she'll just want to know if your morale was boosted by the experiment. I know mine was." She winked at Greg. "Repeatedly, if we're both lucky and things go according to plan." She raced for her room and her stash of lacy underthings, making a mental note to apologize to Lavender in the morning.


End file.
